


Way up in the Blue

by Tabithian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4983835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This would probably be less awkward if Jason was wearing pants. </p><p>Or, you know. </p><p>Any clothes at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Way up in the Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Not so great day at work, and I needed something stupidly ridiculous? IDK.
> 
> Based (loosely) on this because reasons:
> 
>    
> [“i’m a newly-turned werewolf without a pack and i can’t really control myself well on full moon nights yet and you keep finding me passed out naked on your lawn” ](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/post/126696742224/aus)

This would probably be less awkward if Jason was wearing pants.

Or, you know.

Any clothes at all.

“Uh.”

The guy staring at him sighs and disappears back into his house like maybe finding naked men in his front yard is something that just happens to him. (Who knows, is the thing.)

“Hold on,” the guy calls back, “I have a towel or something around here. Probably?”

Jason blinks, looks around the neighborhood he's found himself in.

Well-kept yards, neatly trimmed trees and hedges, the kind of place people get up early to take care of. He can hear a lawnmower somewhere down the block, smells freshly cut grass. There's some kind of racket going a few houses down, dogs barking their heads off about something.

Jason shivers as a little breeze tickles his hair, cold, unpleasant, and God, this really needs to stop happening. 

He'd thought he had a hold on it last month, but apparently not, if he's here. 

Jason lets his mind wander, taking in the white picket fences and hideous lawn decorations that are probably meant to be gnomes or various kinds of wildlife.

Quaint, in a way.

The kind of neighborhood where people get into each others' business, and Jason's lucky no one's noticed him.

“Here,” the guy says, eyes trained on Jason's face. “I don't have any clothes that will fit you, so...”

He's holding out a fuzzy blanket, this hideous purple color.

“It's eggplant,” the guy says at Jason's blank look, mouth twitching up into a faint smile like this is something he's gone over before. “Or so I've been informed. Sorry.”

“Yeah, no. Uh, I'm the one who should be apologizing here,” Jason says, accepting the blanket.

He frowns as he catches a wisp of scent, something irritatingly familiar he can't place, buried under the smell of detergent and fabric softer. When he realizes the guy's looking at him, Jason puts it out of his mind.

The guy looks like he wants to ask, but all he says is, “Do you need to call anyone to come get you?”

The guy pauses, eyes flicking over Jason.

“You can use my phone if you, um. Don't have yours...on you.”

Jason looks around the neighborhood, down at himself now wrapped in a horribly ugly blanket.

“If it's not too much trouble, yeah. That would be great.”

********

The guy lets Jason inside the house to make his phone call. 

Leads him down a short hallway past what must be the living room into the kitchen area.

“Sorry about the mess, I've been busy with a work project,” he says over his shoulder as he digs through a messenger bag on the kitchen bar that separate the kitchen from the dining room.

Jason raises an eyebrow at the stack of pizza boxes sitting on one of the stools pulled up to the kitchen bar. Grease-stained takeout bags and empty soda bottles and energy drink cans littering various surfaces. Dirty dishes stacked in the sink

“It. Um,” the guy says, turning around with his phone in his hand.

Pauses. 

Frowns, like he's only now realizing what the actual mess looks like.

“...It's been a rough week.”

Jason looks at him.

Hair messy, sticking up in spots like he's been pulling at it, dark bags under his eyes and looking the kind of tired that means he's been having sleepless nights for a while now.

“Looks like, it, yeah,” Jason says, smiling to soften his words because the guy's doing him a huge favor here. “Not like I can talk though.”

The guy smiles, little bit awkward, as he taps in the password for his phone's lock screen and holds it out to Jason.

“I was just finishing up the last part, so," a little shrug, the guy gesturing the laptop almost literally covered in brightly colored sticky notes. “I'll get back to that while you make your call.”

Jason's luck being what it is, Dick's the one to answer the phone.

And, sure. 

To his credit Dick's all concern and badly hidden worry when he first hears Jason's voice, but after Jason explains the situation - 

Jason sighs as Dick fucking loses it. A clatter like he dropped the phone, he's laughing so hard and Jason has to wait him out because he knows there's going to be more from the fucker before Dick's done.

“Just. Shut the hell up and come get me, you jackass,” Jason snaps, when Dick finally picks the phone back up.

He slides a look over at the guy seated at the kitchen bar that separates the kitchen from the dining room. He's got his head bent over his laptop, glasses sliding down his nose every few minutes Soft muttering and exasperate sighs as he pushes them back up.

“You're okay, though?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “I'm fine, Dick. Just. Don't take your sweet time getting here.”

********

Turns out, the worst part wasn't making the call to the manor, or listening to Dick cackle like a loon.

No.

The worst part is getting back to the manor and finding everyone waiting for him.

Alfred sniffs, but there's a twinkle in his eye.

Bruce gives him a judgey look.

Dick hasn't stopped smiling.

Cass does a double-take at the blanket, and then gives him this _smile_. 

Damian does a slow clap.

Jason kind of hates his family sometimes.

********

“Oh my God, not again,” Jason mutters when he finds himself waking up on the same poor bastard's lawn again.

It's.

Apparently he can shift on nights that aren't the full moon, and he's having a bitch of a time trying to pin down what triggers it.

Getting blackout drunk with fucking Roy isn't exactly great for keeping his wolfy side contained. (Shocker, really.)

The guy's a good sport about it, or who knows, maybe shit like this really is a normal thing for him.

“You, uh,” the guy says, taps one of his cheeks with a finger, drags it down to his jaw in a small arc. “Have something here.”

Jason raises an eyebrow.

The guy shrugs, leads the way into his house.

“You know where the bathroom is if you want to clean up before you make your phone call,” the guy says, little smile on his face. “I was working on something in the kitchen, if you need me.”

Jason watches the guy walk away, and has to wonder at the kind of idiot who'd let someone who was naked on their front lawn not that long ago have free reign in their house. Any normal person would have walked back inside the first time it happened, locking the door after themselves. Probably called the damn cops because. 

Naked guy on their front lawn.

But.

It's not like this is the first time this has happened to either of them. (Jason's a little concerned, however, at how easily the guy's been taking this shit. Like. Completely unphased.)

Jason takes a few minutes to clean up, wash whatever the hell he managed to get n his face the night before. Dirt, or mud, probably but something that stinks like motor oil or grease, has him scrubbing until he can't smell it anymore.

********

Jason lingers in the hallway leading to the kitchen, looking at the framed photos hanging on the walls.

There are a lot of them scattered around the house from what Jason's seen of it, but this hallway's where the ones of the guy and someone who must be his significant other seem to be the focus.

A lot of candids, the guy catching the blonde in the middle of what looks like everyday things. A series of photos that seem to go all the way back to high school.

“I was wondering what was keeping you,” the guy says, somehow managing to sneak up on Jason. 

Jason looks at him, this weird little guy who has never once asked how the hell Jason keeps ending up here.

The guy grins when he sees the photo Jason's looking at, the blonde hanging off the guy's back, camera held out in front of them, both of them smiling like idiots.

“That was when I got the call telling me I was hired at my current job,” the guy says, fond smile on his face. “My roommate dragged me out to celebrate with some of her friends.”

Jason straightens, looks at the guy.

“We've known each other since high school, but I guess you figure that out from the pictures?” the guy says, and grimaces a little when his gaze lands one particularly amazing picture. “Ugh, the nineties, though. I mean.”

Jason grins as he follows his gaze. “How'd you get your hair to do that?”

Jason gets a heavy sigh, and looks over to see the guy running a hand through his hair.

Longish, hanging in his eyes and curling around his ears.

“Lots and lots of hair product,” he says, sounding a little despairing of his younger self, shrugs. “It was the nineties, you know? No one came out of that okay.”

Jason thinks back to his own fashion choices back then, _Dick_ 's, because holy God. What was the idiot thinking?

********

“Here,” the guy says, handing Jason a mug of coffee while Jason calls the manor. “I had a pot going, you look like you need it more than me right now.”

Jason accepts the coffee, blanket sliding down as he does.

It's a different one this time, a deep rich red, because Jason's life is a bit hectic now and he forgets shit. 

Like the manners Alfred's worked so hard to instill in him.

“Uh, thanks. Again,” Jason says, tugging the blanket back up. “Sorry I didn't bring your other blanket back, things have been kind of crazy for me lately.”

There's a delicate sort of pause after that.

The guy's lips twitch. “You don't say.”

Jason snorts, takes a drink of the coffee, and almost chokes.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” the guy says. “I made it triple strength.”

Jason squints at him.

“I have a presentation I need to prepare for,” the guy says, looking a little uncomfortable. “Don't judge.”

Jason.

“Are you okay?”

Jason's laughing so hard there are tears, and he doesn't even have enough air to pretest when the guy steals the coffee out of his hands to keep Jason from spilling it over himself.

“Jesus,” Jason wheezes, wiping the tears away with the back of his wrist. “Seriously though, if anyone should be saying that it's me?”

The guy laughs, and it lights up his face.

********

A rainstorm rolls in while Jason's making his phone call, and Dick – it's like he' just waiting for Jason to call when this happens – mumbles some excuse about not being able to pick him up until it's over.

Bullshit, because they've all driven through worse, and really.

It's a typical thunderstorm, nothing unnatural to it, but Dick hangs up on Jason before he can get the real reason from him.

“I take it your ride's going to be a while.”

Jason sighs, handing the guy's phone over to him. “Sorry about this.”

The guy shrugs, easy little smile on his face. “It's fine.”

Jason looks at him.

“Is it.”

Because the poor guy has a – well, Jason wouldn't say he's a complete stranger, given the situation – stranger in his kitchen wrapped up in a borrowed blanket and nothing else.

“Believe it or not,” the guy says. “This is not the strangest thing to happen to me.”

There's a story there, Jason knows, but.

“I hope this isn't being too forward of me,” the guy says, looking back at Jason. “But I don't even know your name.”

Jason opens his mouth to protest that, the guy's seen him naked, he must have told him his name by now, but.

There's the fact that Jason calls him 'The Guy' in his head, or when he had to explain himself to Bruce with the others unashamedly listening in.

“Uh.”

“I'm Tim,” the guy says, like they're two normal people meeting for the first time. 

Tim's looking at him, laughter in his eyes like he knows how damn ridiculous this all is, and Jason.

Christ.

“Hi, Tim. My name's Jason.”

It feels like some team-building shit Dick would insist on to fuck with people, or corporate crap Brucie insists on. (also to fuck with people.)

Tim laughs. “Oh my God,” he says, “your face.”

“Shut up,” Jason mutters, feels the top of his ears warming. 

********

Tim ushers Jason into his living room and turns the television on to some morning news show.

“I love watching this one.”

Jason gives him a skeptical look when he sees which show it is. “They all hate one another.”

“I know,” Tim says, little bit of something like guilt on his face. “They don't even bother to hide it and it's fantastic."

********

The storm gets worse, and Jason would suspect someone's helping it along, but no. His luck's just that shitty.

“You know,” Jason says, flipping through channels because Tim's show is over and he's given up on working on his day off, joining Jason in being a useless lump. “I've never met your roommate.”

It's kind of an idle thought because as often as he's been here (and again how weird is that?), he's never seen her around.

Tim blinks at him.

“Steph?”

Jason frowns, because isn't that the name of Cass' newfound bestie? The one Cass refuses to bring around the manor because something about the rest of them being horrible people and not wanting to scare her off just yet.

“She's doing volunteer work with one of her mentors in Africa,” Tim says, and grabs the remote from Jason. 

Jason squints at Tim.

“Africa. Like. _All_ of it, or just a specific area?”

Tim scrunches down, little bit of color hitting his cheeks.

“She told me, but I was working on something a project for work, so...”

Jason snorts as he grabs the remote right back and turns to look at Tim.

“Steph.”

Tim frowns. “Yes?”

“Brown? Steph Brown?” Jason asks, on a hunch. Cass talks about her, and Jason has a vague mental picture of what she looks like. 

Tim nods slowly, looking at Jason like he's realizing that hey, inviting the weird naked guy on your lawn into your home like this might be a bad idea. 

Jason holds his hand out, about Cass height. “Has a bestie named Cass? Tiny, could kill you with anything in this room more times than you'd think is possible?”

Tim opens his mouth like he's going to say something, and then closes it, eyes narrowing like something's just occurred to him.

“What's your last name?”

Jason looks at Tim. “...Todd.”

Tim snatches up one of the throw pillows and covers his face with it, muffling his helpless laughter. 

********

“Really, Master Jason,” Alfred says, eyes gleaming with amusement. “I was lead to believe you were something of a detective?”

“Jason,” Bruce says in the way that Jason knows means training. (And really, it's not like had other shit on his mind, okay? Fucking seriously, stop looking at him like that.)

“Oh my God,” Dick says. “Hold still. I want to take a picture. Your _face_.”

“I liked the eggplant better,” Cass says, smirk in her voice, because she's a horrible human being just like the rest of them. (At least now Jason knows why that damn blanket of Steph's smelled so familiar if Cass has been over to Tim's place to make sure he doesn't die of stupid while Steph's gone.)

“Why am I not surprised? Damian asks, little sneer on his face. (Goddamn, so annoying.)

********

“Okay, look,” Jason says. “In my defense, it's not like I plan for this to happen.”

He can now add 'No Fucking Idea' to the list of things that make him go all furry and a little overbite-y at random times. 

Tim blinks at Jason. 

He looks like he's actually gotten some sleep, although his hair still a goddamn mess. He smiles when his brain finally kicks into gear and he recognizes Jason

“Hey, Jason,” he says, all soft and weirdly fond.

Weirdly fond because that whole naked stranger on the lawn thing?

But.

Tim waves him in, and after a moment Jason follows. (And really, it's not like Jason's really a stranger anymore.)

“Feel free to grab a cup of coffee if you want,” Tim says, as they hit the kitchen.

Jason's hand twitch, but no. Tim likes his coffee stronger than any sane person would even dare dream of.

Tim disappears off down the hall, and Jason is really trying not to think about how normal this is starting to feel.

“I'm running out of blankets,” Tim says, when he comes back into the kitchen. “I hope you don't mind these.”

Jason turns around and goes very, very still. 

“Are those mine?”

They sure as hell look like his, the sweats he thought he'd lost somehow. Thought Dick had stolen for whatever reason. (Jason doesn't ask okay. Dick's his own kind of crazy.)

Tim grins, a little bit lopsided. “Cass brought them over after the last time.”

Jason stares at Tim.

This weird little guy who doesn't seem all that phased at having naked guys show up on his lawn, and smells - 

Safe? 

Something close enough to it that the wolfy side of Jason brings him all the way out here instead of one of the safe houses they have scattered across Gotham. Or the Clock Tower, or even the manor which are among safest places Jason knows in Gotham.

And, yeah. Jason's still learning how to trust his wolfy instincts, work with them so he doesn't get overwhelmed, but.

Tim lives with Steph who is Cass' bestie, and Cass. She wouldn't let him keep coming here like this if she didn't think it was safe. Wouldn't have brought a change of clothes if she thought there was something wrong going on here.

The first time was some random bit of luck – but every time after that? 

Not so much, really, which. 

Yeah, okay.

Jason can work with that.

Especially with the way a slow smile is starting to spread across Tim's face as Jason just stares at him.

Because hey, weird naked guy showing up on his lawn, you know? 

Unusual, even for the shit that happens in Gotham.


End file.
